


Who Are You, Who Am I

by westwingfanfictioncentral_archivist



Category: The West Wing
Genre: Drama, F/M, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2002-09-11
Updated: 2002-09-11
Packaged: 2019-05-15 16:41:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,110
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14794190
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/westwingfanfictioncentral_archivist/pseuds/westwingfanfictioncentral_archivist
Summary: CJ is in a car crash and suffers a concussion. The diagnosis: Amnesia.





	Who Are You, Who Am I

**Author's Note:**

> A copy of this work was once archived at National Library, a part of the [ West Wing Fanfiction Central](https://fanlore.org/wiki/West_Wing_Fanfiction_Central), a West Wing fanfiction archive. More information about the Open Doors approved archive move can be found in the [announcement post](http://archiveofourown.org/admin_posts/8325).

**Who Are You, Who Am I**

**by:** Donna Moss

**Category:** Drama/Romance  
**Characters:** CJ, Toby  
**Rating:** TEEN  
**Spoilers:** ITSO2G 1 and 2, WKODHIB?  
**Summary:** C.J. is in a car crash and suffers a concussion. The diagnosis: Amnesia.  
**Disclaimer:** They’re not mine, so there :P.  
**Author's Notes:** It’s a little angsty, but it gets shipper-y at the end, don’t worry shippers. 

Enjoy, or not. Review, or suffer.

* * *

"That’s a full lid. Leave my press room, I want to go home."

Choruses of "Bye, C.J.", "Ok.", and the like were heard as the reporters cleared out. 

A junior reporter came up to her.

"Ms. Cregg, I have a question on the Middle East treaty between Qumar and Yugoslavia."

"Bruce, it’s Friday. As long as they’re not bombing each other, it’s not a national crisis on my part, and I would like to go home. I’m sure you have a family. If you don’t, I’m sure you have a life, if you don’t, well, then get one. Have a good one."

She wanted to get home. It was Friday, which meant, for her at least, not as much work as on the weekdays. Not to mention 2 whole days alone! At least it was something.

As she walked by the Senior Staff offices, she crept quietly. She thought she was home free, until....

"C.J.!"

"C’mon Leo. It’s Friday. I need to go home. Let me do nothing for a change."

"I know. I’m just stressing you out. Have a good weekend."

"Yeah, you too."

* * *

She really wanted to get home, but there was a cop following her, so she couldn’t speed.

Grease starts in ten minutes. I really should get around to taping it. I can never watch the whole thing, but I can’t figure out the VCR either. I never have time. This weekend I will. Yeah, like a New Year’s Resolution. Except it’s not New Year’s.

As her mind drifted off to the various past broken resolutions, she didn’t see the car coming straight at her. 

*CRUNCH*

The cop got out of his car and raced to the scene. It wasn’t the worst, but worse off than most. The lady in the black car didn’t look like she was going to make it. The other one was already dead. Thank God the first one had been wearing her seatbelt, if not, she wouldn’t have made it this far. 

He picked her up, which was not so easy, considering he was so short and put her in the back of the car. He switched on his siren and lights and rushed to G.W.

* * *

He watched them cart her away as something glinted and caught his eye. Crap, he had a phone call to make, and they would not be happy.

* * *

"Hello. May I please speak to Leo McGarry? Thanks. Leo? Hey. Not too good. Sit Down. I’m in G.W. and I have one of yours in here. I believe C.J. Cregg. Yeah. No, car crash. I was there. Your Welcome. Any time. They just took her into the O.R. Yeah. She wasn’t conscious, and didn’t look too good. I don’t know how she made it this far. Yeah, I guess she is a fighter. Thanks. Good Luck, Bye."

As he hung up the phone, he sighed. These people did not have good luck with G.W.

* * *

Toby was the first to arrive.

"How is she? Is she OK? Can I see her? How did it happen?"

"Ok. Yes. No. I don’t know, but I would guess car crash." At this, he sat down and buried his head in his hands.

"How bad is it?"

"She suffered a broken arm, a few cuts and bruises, and a concussion."

"How bad is the concussion? Brain damage?"

"Minor, as far as it looked like. Only amnesia."

" _Only_ amnesia?" At this, he again buried his face in his hands, cutting himself off from the world. This was the doctor’s cue usually to try and comfort the grieving family member, but this guy didn’t look like he wanted that right now.

When the others came, he told them. Well, actually he told Donna, and Donna told the rest, because he didn’t really have the strength to say amnesia that many times. 

"You can see her now." He almost got bowled over by a mob of people, with Toby leading the pack.

* * *

They cautiously pushed the door open. Nothing could have prepared them for the sight which awaited them. Three IV’s, a Morphine push, a breathing apparatus, a cast on the non-IVed arm, several machines monitoring vital signs, and lots of X-Rays and MRIs on display boards around the room. Painful memories flooded them and their eyes.

As they walked in, none of them, not Toby, Leo, FLOTUS, POTUS, Sam, Josh, Donna or Carol, saw even a glimmer of recognition in her eyes. They seemed dulled, as if the fire that had always been burning in them was extinguished. She was quite surprised at all the visitors, alarmed actually.

"Who are you?"

Toby flinched.

"We’re your co-workers."

"You had us worried there, Ceej."

"Ceej?"

"You don’t even remember your name? Your name is Claudia Jean Cregg, or C.J. to most. People pretty much live in fear of calling you Claudia Jean."

"Oh." She looked down for a bit, then perked up. "Who are you, again?"

"We’re your co-workers. Your assistant, Carol, me, Abagail, or really Abbey Bartlet, my husband, Josiah, but never ever call him that, he’s Jed, Leo McGarry, Sam Seaborn, Joshua Lyman and his assistant, Donna Moss. The one sulking there in the chair is Toby Ziegler."

"Are you going to fire me?"

"Good heavens, no."

"Thank you. What do I do, anyway?"

"You’re the Press Secretary."

"Of what company?"

"The White House."

"No, really."

"Really."

"You look serious, where do I really work, Toby? No, wait, Leo."

"Umm, Jed actually."

"Sorry, cool name."

"I usually don’t go by it, actually."

"Why not?

"I’m the President."

"That was pretty funny for someone who’s serious."

"I am serious." The President wasn’t used to not being believed, especially not by his own people, he didn’t quite know what to do.

"And I’m a pole dancer, does anybody have answers here?"

"Really? What club?"

"Oh Man, Oh Man, Oh Man, Oh Man...."

"I think that’s enough for today." They made their way to the door.

"Leo?"

"Yeah?"

"I’d like to stay with her."

"Sure, sure. Take tomorrow off."

"Tomorrow’s Saturday."

"Like you don’t come in anyway."

"Fair point."

Leo closed the door behind him.

"Which one are you, again?"

He looked hurt.

"Toby Ziegler."

"Oh yeah, sulk-boy. Sorry about that."

"It’s ok."

"He’s really the President, huh?"

"Yeah."

"Am I screwed?"

"No, we’re just happy to see you alive and healthy."

"Me too. My arm hurts."

"It’s broken."

"Well, that would explain a lot. That sucks. Why can’t I remember anything?"

"You have amnesia."

"Well, duh." She smacked her head, but quickly drew back. "Ow."

"Yeah, you have a concussion too."

Well, this sucks on a lot of levels, then huh?"

"Uh, yeah."

He tried to explain everything to her as best as he could. Who everybody was, what they did, and the like. When he had to explain C.J. to C.J., though, that got pretty weird.

"How did we meet?"

"In 1981, at a convention in California."

"What was the convention for?"

"You know what? I can’t remember."

"Well that’s ironic. I lived in California? Cool."

"Do I have a husband?"

"No."

"Do you?"

"What?" Toby looked as if someone had slapped him in the face.

"A wife, I mean."

"That’s what I thought. No."

"But you used to."

"How do you know th-"

"Why do you still wear the ring?"

"I don’t know." He promptly took it off, and threw it in the trash can.

"Do you still love her?"

"No."

"Why not?"

"She couldn’t accept me for who I was."

"Well that was rude. She tried to make you something you’re not, right?"

"Yeah."

"We don’t get paid very much, do we?"

"Nope. How much do you remember?"

"Up until I was about 20, I think. Is it permanent?"

"The doctor said there’s chance you’ll snap out of it, but he said it isn’t likely."

"Damnit."

"I know you will, though. You’ve always been a fighter."

"I sure hope so. Is anybody married?"

"Not really, except for the President, obviously."

"His wife is a teacher, right?"

"Doctor, actually."

"I was close."

"No, actually you really weren’t."  
"Why was everybody so sad?"

"They saw you. You look worse than you probably are."

"Oh thanks. But really, that’s helpful. At least there’s people I know. I think."

"We love you, Ceej. We care about you. We wouldn’t want to see you in pain."

"You know, Ceej has a bit of a ring to it. Right now, I think that’s one of the best things that could happen to me." She started to cry."

"No, no. Don’t cry. Why are you crying?"

"I don’t know anybody. I wasn’t even really nice to them. I don’t know their names, I don’t know their qualifications, and yet they still care. The two young ones looked like they were going to cry."

"Donna and Carol. They do care, Ceej. They really do."

"Are we... Did we.... Is there a...."

"Thing between us? No."

"Ok, now I feel stupid."

"It’s ok. For an amnesiac, it wasn’t that odd of a question."

"Do you love me?"

"I think that’s a bit personal."

"Do you love me?"

"Very much."

"Wow. I can’t say that I love you now, but I’m sure I will." She looked dumbstruck, but took his head in her hands, and kissed his forehead.

A tear threatened to roll down his cheek, but he kept it at bay. Yet, he knew that this was the best he could hope for right now.

_He looks so sad._ She thought.

* * *

Over the next few months, she started re-learning her job. From time to time, she got lost, but she always found her way back and did ok. Her arm had healed, her amnesia had not. The Press didn’t know a thing about the amnesia, although they knew about the car crash.

Then, one time, she was late for staff meeting. Knowing he had become closer to her after the crash, Leo sent Toby to investigate.

He found her in her office. He knocked on the door.

"C.J.?"

No answer.

"Claudia Jean?"

He heard a small sound from the inside. He pushed open the door to find her at her desk, crying. 

"If only I had watched, If only I had seen."

She had a picture of all of them, taken at FLOTUS’s birthday party.

"C.J.!"

"What?"

"You remember!"

"At first it was kinda fuzzy, like snow, but then it became really clear and I started to remember whole patches of time."

Toby reached over and hugged her. She got very rigid. Ever since the accident, whenever someone touched her, even her arm, she got jumpy and uncomfortable.

"I’m sorry, I just got carried away with the-"

Then all of a sudden, C.J. grabbed him, gently, and kissed him. The years and pain fell away from his face, as if suddenly, all was right in the world. He deepened the kiss, opening her mouth, and intensifying the feeling.

"I love you."

Now it was his turn to be stunned.

"You’re not just...."

"No. I remembered that I loved someone. Very, very much, but I couldn’t remember who it was. Then, after you gave that speech at the Embassy, I knew who it was. You."

"God, I’m just so glad to have you back, Claudia Jean."

"Just remember that you’re the only one who can call me that."

"I’ll remember. I’ll remember."

* * *

She was completely back to normal after a few weeks. Then, in the middle of Josh’s desk, she broke down crying.

"What?" He asked, alarmed.

"You."

"Me? What’d I do now? Really, that was Sam, I more of just went along with the idea...."

"No. At Rosslyn, you and the President were shot. Please tell me you’re Ok."

"Mostly."

"Oh Thank God." Both had forlorn looks on their faces as they remembered that fateful night in Virginia, at the Newseum. 

* * *

After that she was extremely glad to be back to normal, including all of her "co-workers".

Nobody there at the hospital that day knew, except the Sheriff, and the doctors. 

The doctors at G.W. are remarkably good at keeping secrets. Everybody hopes that a memory, and a neat, white, puckered scar are all that they’ll have to remember that by.


End file.
